


stay

by itsmylifekay



Series: stay [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Slow Burn, cat!zoro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 23:59:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6775642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmylifekay/pseuds/itsmylifekay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanji doesn't know what he's done in a past life to deserve this, but somehow when Zoro gets turned into a cat he's the one stuck on babysitting duty. How someone that small can cause so much trouble, he'll never understand. </p>
<p>But even after all the hell he's put through, he still manages to fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stay

**Author's Note:**

> This was completely self-indulgent and it ran away from me...

 

“Fucking bastard, not again!” Sanji jumps across the field of boulders with a knot in his stomach, mind going back to a time when blood had painted the ground and one of the strongest men he’d ever known had almost died. “Self-sacrificing idiot,” Sanji growls under his breath, pushing his legs to move faster, get him closer to where he’d last seen Zoro before that horrible flash of light.

The rest of the crew is just starting to stand, blinking and groggy against the sudden brightness that had been intended for their captain and found their swordsman instead. Luffy and Sanji are the only two moving, Sanji running for Zoro and Luffy steaming from Second Gear and shouting about hurting his nakama. It had been a lucky shot, all of them caught off guard on such a small island, but Zoro had reacted the fastest, throwing himself in front of their captain and drawing his swords in a futile attempt at defense.

At least, Sanji assumes it was futile since Zoro had disappeared, assumedly falling to the ground or getting thrown by the blast like the rest of them. He searches the surrounding area and comes up with nothing. “Oi, marimo!” The rest of the crew has started calling as well and Sanji strains his ears for any sign of response.

At first there’s nothing. Then, he hears it: a faint rustling from just a few feet away, beneath his feet like something’s caught between the stones. But the boulders are too close together to fit a person, there’s no way the idiot could’ve--

“Meow!”

Sanji freezes, breath caught in his chest as he watches a flash of green emerge from an opening in the rocks, shaking itself off and glaring around itself in confusion with way more personality than any cat has a right. There’s a scar over it’s left eye and row of three earring in its ear. The thing turns and catches sight of him and Sanji loses it, doubled over in laughter with the amazing turn of events.

“This is perfect,” he says. “Do you remember who you are, marimo?”

The cat (or maybe even a kitten it’s so small) meows at him in obvious aggravation before turning away and hopping back into the opening it had emerged from.

“Oi, oi, don’t be an idiot,” Sanji tries to control himself a bit but can’t keep the grin from his face as he saunters over to where the Zoro-cat has disappeared.

He hears more rustling, some metallic clanks, and then Zoro springs back out, Wado gripped tight in his small mouth. Sanji snorts. “Want some help there, tiger?”

Zoro glares at him before setting the sword down (and Sanji has to admit the oddity of having a cat glaring at him) then disappears back into the crevice, repeating the process until all three of his precious swords are back above ground. Sanji spares him the task of gathering his clothes, grabs those himself and tucks them underneath one arm.

By now the rest of the crew has started to gather, their enemy subdued and held fast by Robin, but when they turn to see Sanji and the little green cat at his side their faces turn to an equal mixture of shock and amusement.

“Is that...?” Usopp asks cautiously.

“It seems Zoro has gotten himself in a bit of trouble,” Robin affirms smoothly, a slight curve to her lips.

Nami stoops down and picks him up with a condescending coo, “What trouble? He’s adorable!” Sanji has just a moment to feel jealous of the affection before Zoro hisses and clamps tiny needle-teeth into Nami’s hand.

“What the hell was that for?” she shouts, glaring at Zoro for a moment before dumping him unceremoniously to the ground.

Zoro lands, puffed up with his ears pressed back, and edges towards his swords as if he could actually do something with them. “Meowr!”

“Don’t speak that way to a lady,” Sanji admonishes.

“Woahooo, Zoro’s a cat!” Luffy squats in front of him and tilts his head. “Do you think she did it?” He gestures over his shoulder at the woman held in Robin’s clutches.

The conversation swirls on around them, but Sanji’s eyes don’t leave Zoro, who’s made his way over to his swords and sat down beside them, watching the proceedings with a glinting yellow eye. He listens for a while as the crew extracts information from their captive (a member of the local community trying to protect the island) and once it’s determined they’re not a threat she’s much more willing to speak. Unfortunately, there appears to be no way to change Zoro back. The man is stuck furry and four-legged until the spell wears off on its own.

Sanji watches Zoro visibly deflate at that, eye casting over his swords anxiously. And Sanji understands, because he can’t imagine how he’d feel if he was suddenly unable to cook for an indeterminate amount of time, and completely helpless at that.

But that doesn’t mean he’s going to go easy on the green-haired bastard. Being a small animal is still no excuse to be rude, and like hell is he going to pass up this golden opportunity to make fun of the idiot when his big mouth is all but sealed shut. Besides, it’s not like Zoro is in any actual danger. The only thing that’s going to be hurting is his pride.

\-------------

“Oi, Zoro!” Luffy calls out on the deck, followed by a crash and an irritated meow. “Zoro?” Sanji looks up from dropping off the ladies’ drinks and watches their captain poke Zoro’s face. “Zoro?”

It’s almost comical how those two have managed to stay the same despite Zoro’s predicament, or at least, mostly the same Sanji muses, smirking around his cigarette as Luffy picks Zoro up off the deck with a single hand. “Zoro,” the younger man whines. “I’m bored.”

Zoro visibly bristles and struggles to get free, landing a swipe to Luffy’s face before he drops to the ground and high tails it to Nami’s mikan tree, climbing into its branches and disappearing. A single orange drops to the ground with all the commotion and Luffy immediately stretches out his arm to grab it, whining like a child when Nami stomps his hand back onto the deck.

In true strawhat fashion, the deck quickly devolves into chaos. Luffy’s nursing a bruised head from Nami’s disciplining, but still rolling around and gripping his stomach like a child, ignoring how Nami is still yelling at him. Usopp gets dragged into it somehow and then Franky’s laugh is booming over the rest of the noise, while Chopper’s anxious fretting over Zoro is drowned out. His sweet Robin is the only one uninvolved, still reclined in her chair and observing the chaos through tinted glasses.

He heads back to the galley with the now empty tray and the yelling from the crew becomes muffled, making it easier to hear the jingle of metal as something flashes between his feet and into the dining area.

“Oi, oi,” he calls. “No animals in the kitchen.”

Zoro ignores him and saunters under the table, hopping up onto one of the chairs and hunkering down. And it’s not what Sanji was expecting the marimo to do (no attempts at stealing food or getting cat hair all over the kitchen) so Sanji blows out a mouthful of smoke and shrugs his shoulders.

“Try not to shed all over the upholstery, furball.”

Zoro meows in response, tail flicking in agitation as Sanji moves around the bar to the kitchen, getting ready to start dinner.

The sizzle of the stove is a comfort as he gets to work, preparing obscene amounts of meat to satiate their captain as well as fruits and vegetables for proper nutrition. After all the action they’d seen that morning, he has no doubt the crew’s going to be hungry so he thinks to make a little more than usual, then remembers exactly what _kind_ of action they’d experienced, and the subsequent downsizing of one of their crew.

He glances out at the dining room where Zoro is napping under the table, tip of his tail just barely visible hanging over the side of a chair. What is Sanji supposed to feed him? He probably shouldn’t give him what he normally eats, since feeding animals human food isn’t generally the best idea, but he can’t imagine how horribly it’d go over if he tried to give Zoro any kind of pet food. He’s still human inside, after all, still the same stubborn asshole of a marimo. And as much as Sanji loves teasing him, he’s not going to do it with food, not if it’ll possibly make the other man sick or leave him hungry.

Heaving a sigh, he resolves to ask Chopper about the proper dietary measures for a cat once it’s quieted down on deck. “Small as you are and still a pain in my ass, shitty-swordsman,” he grumbles.

Zoro’s tail doesn’t so much as twitch.

In fact, the lazy lump of fur doesn’t move until Sanji saunters over and kicks the chair on his way to the ladder, rattling him awake with an angry hiss.

“Dinner!” he calls, immediately ducking out of the way when he hears the stampede of feet and the shaking of the deck as the entire crew rushes down to the galley. Nami and Robin descend last, moving at the speed of civilized humans, and Sanji waits for them to be seated before he sets out the food.

The last thing out of the kitchen is a small dish for Zoro, consisting of ground up fish and some other meats. Chopper had thankfully known much more than Sanji about preparing food for a small, carnivorous animal so the dish was exactly what Zoro needed. It had been a bit of a change, grinding up bones to put into the food instead of taking them out, not to mention making such a small amount. He’d also had to account for how, apparently, Zoro can’t chew now. Those needle-teeth might be good for biting things but are complete shit about crushing stuff up, so Sanji had to make sure his meal was minced small enough for him not to choke.

That, and he had to _taste_ it. Nothing ever leaves his kitchen without a thorough quality control check and as ungrateful as he knew the marimo would be, he couldn’t bring himself not to at least make sure it was edible. (It was, and didn’t even taste half bad.)

Setting the small bowl down on Zoro’s chair, he smirks when he sees the other man move forward to smell it, whiskers twitching and nose scrunching up just slightly. Apparently it’s up to snuff because Zoro digs in moments later, entire face stuffed into the bowl.

Sanji sighs, it’s not even a change from when he’s human.

\---------

Fortunately for the crew, Zoro’s taken the change well. He’s a prideful man, but he’s also not a worrier. He leaves things up to fate and luck and despite the obvious withdraw he’s experiencing from not having his swords...he’s doing okay. He bristles and glares at Sanji’s teasing, fights back when the others try to pick him up or god forbid _cuddle_ him; and he still manages to disappear into thin air when Chopper tries to bring him to sickbay for an exam.

“Sanji, have you seen Zoro?”

“The marimo?” Sanji ashes his cigarette and shakes his head. “No, haven’t since breakfast.”

Chopper has that worried and exasperated look on his face that they all know to fear and Sanji is quietly glad that it’s not directed at him. “He needs a checkup. I don’t know what being changed into a cat has done to his system. All of his scars could be a lot worse in such a small body, not to mention he’s not as strong as he was before.”

Sanji hadn’t considered that before. The marimo is an oddity, that’s for sure, strong and stubborn enough to get sliced in half and still live to tell about it, but that ability came from years of training. Something that didn’t necessarily transfer over to his cat-self.

“He’ll come for lunch, just grab him then.”

Chopper sighs. “He’s going to try and run.”

“So be faster,” Sanji adjusts his weight against the rail and pats Chopper on the top of the head. “I’ll help you out and I’m sure the others will too. Just leave the room as soon as you’ve got him so the idiot doesn’t fight back just to save face.”

\--

The sky is one vast blanket of stars when Sanji sees Zoro next. The man hadn’t shown up for dinner, but Sanji had resolutely refused to care, especially after listening to Chopper and Robin discuss his unique situation through the entirety of the meal and finding out the bastard had actually _scratched_ their dear historian earlier in the day.

Zoro’s slinking along the edge of the deck, mossy green fur made nearly black by the shadows, single gold eye flashing in the dark. He stops at the foot of the mast and Sanji watches curiously as the man leaps onto the wooden structure, claws digging in and making a rather unpleasant scratching sound that Sanji knows would have Franky shouting.

The smoke from his cigarette spirals up towards the moon as he steps away from the rail, hands wrapping around Zoro’s thin torso just as he’d made it to the height of Sanji’s shoulders. “Scratch me and I’ll punt you overboard,” he threatens, turning Zoro around so they can glare at each other face to face. “Just what do you think you’re doing, shitty-marimo?”

Zoro meows and squirms in Sanji’s hold, straining to get back to the mast.

“Keep scratching up Franky’s woodwork and you’ll be a pancake in the morning.” Sanji’s warning gives Zoro pause and his small body stops struggling, looking over his shoulder to examine the damage already done.

He gets another meow and a very put-upon expression. If he were a man, Sanji knows he’d be crossing his arms and furrowing his brow, obstinate and confused and refusing to show it.

“Why do you need to get up there so bad?” Sanji asks. “You can’t lift your weights like this. Go run around the deck a few times if you still want to train.”

Zoro meows again, eye narrowing and body once again straining upwards.

“You can’t be lookout either, how would you warn us if something was coming?” He eyes the large vertical pillar in front of them then looks back at Zoro. “Could you even climb down?” Zoro bristles at that and Sanji smirks. “Didn’t think so, furball. Find some other way to pass the time.”

He sets Zoro on the ground and goes back to the rail, already working on recipes and meal plans for the days ahead while Zoro curls up beneath one of Nami’s trees.

\-----------

Nearly a week has passed since Zoro’s transformation and the crew is finally settling in, getting used to taking more watches and the absence of the clanking and counting from Zoro’s training routine. Sanji has to admit it’s been a bit strange waking up in the morning without the marimo sprawled out and snoring on his bunk nearby, replaced instead by the small, nearly silent ball he sleeps in as a cat.

It’s also strange how much more he and Zoro have been crossing paths, or just spending time in the same room without attacking each other. It still happens, but now that Zoro’s small (and infinitely more breakable, despite the denial the idiot’s in) Sanji’s less apt to roundhouse kick him into a wall. And Zoro can’t even talk back either, which sucks a large majority of the fun out of teasing him. He can goad Zoro all he wants like this, but doesn’t get half the satisfaction of seeing Zoro angry when all the other man can produce is a pointed hiss.

So they’ve ended up with a half-assed truce. Sanji still insults him and Zoro still makes a point of traipsing across Sanji’s counters with dirt-covered paws, but they can’t do much beyond that. (Somehow, Sanji has found himself looking forward to the day Zoro’s human again, actually missing their impromptu sparring matches more than he thought he would.)

He’s digging in the fridge for smoothie ingredients when he hears the soft thud of Zoro jumping down into the galley. Chopper nearly had a heart attack the first time he saw Zoro do it, but there’s really no way of stopping the other man and he hasn’t broken himself yet so Sanji’s letting it slide. Besides, cats always land on their feet or whatever so it should be fine. He pulls out what he needs and starts setting up on the counter, watching out of the corner of his eye as Zoro makes his way across the floor.

Zoro’s taken to spending large chunks of his day curled up on one of the dining room chairs, occasionally getting up to slink around the legs of the table and jump up on it when he thinks Sanji isn’t looking (Sanji never fails to shove him off as soon as he sees it). Seeing him in the galley has become pretty commonplace, although he usually doesn’t bother to give Sanji a second glance.

Which is why Sanji can’t help his eyebrow raising ever so slightly when he turns and sees the marimo sitting on the kitchen floor, staring up at him expectantly.

“What do you want, furball?” he asks, blowing out a stream of smoke and leaning his hip against the counter.

Zoro glares up at him and stands, padding past him and hopping up onto the countertop near the sink.

“Oi, get your filthy paws off my cooking surfaces,” Sanji reaches for the scruff of Zoro’s neck to throw him off the counter but Zoro ducks out of the way, slips between the faucet and the backsplash and gives Sanji a look.

“What? What do you want?”

Zoro puts a paw on the tap.

“Oh, alright hang on.” Sanji sticks his cigarette between his teeth and reaches into a top cupboard, bringing out a shallow dish. They’ve taken to leaving a bowl of water out underneath Nami’s mikan trees for Zoro to use, but they’ve admittedly not been the best about remembering to refill it.

Zoro moves out of the way as Sanji fills the dish, sitting down on the countertop and wrapping his tail around his legs like an actual cat. It’s something he’s started doing recently and Sanji’s loathe to admit it, but it worries him. Zoro’s supposed to be getting _less_ cat-like, not more.

“You’re not drinking it on the counter, you’ll splash everywhere,” Sanji says, walking around the bar to set the dish on the ground. But Zoro meows, glaring at him from his spot in a way that clearly says he isn’t moving. “Alright fine,” Sanji holds up the bowl and points his cigarette in Zoro’s direction. “You can drink it there, but only if I put a towel down and you let me wipe off your paws.”

He fully expects Zoro to hop down with a huff, maybe even go back on deck without getting a drink at all and waiting for Sanji to bring it out to his normal bowl, but Zoro just keeps staring at him, resolved.

And that’s how he finds himself holding one of Zoro’s tiny paws in his hand, wiping it down with the corner of a towel before releasing it and moving on to the next. The pads of it are soft, a dark greenish grey that stands out against the lighter green of the surrounding fur. When he moves onto the back feet his thumb brushes the uneven scars around Zoro’s ankles and Chopper’s words come back to him. He considers the possibility that this smaller body might not be able to handle the damage Zoro’s done to himself over the years. But Zoro’s stronger than that, Sanji knows, too much of a stubborn asshole to actually go down even if he is a cat.

Sanji lays out a towel and puts down Zoro’s dish, leaving him to his own devices and turning back to the smoothies. Once the ingredients are measured and chopped he puts them into the blender and fastens the lid, getting ready to turn it on when he sees Zoro moving to the sink, dish in his mouth as he pads across the counter. His feet are clean so Sanji can’t be too upset with him, but that’s still a perfectly good dish he’s putting teeth marks in.

“That’s a perfectly good dish you’re putting teeth marks in,” he says. He reaches out and plucks it from Zoro’s mouth before the idiot can drop it into the sink and break it. Making a show of inspecting the lip, he runs it under the water then sets it aside to soak later. “Now you’ve had your water so go back to whatever you were doing before.”

Unimpressed, Zoro walks back over to the towel and curls up, letting out a yawn before dropping his chin and closing his eyes.

“Oi, don’t sleep there, idiot,” Sanji blows out more smoke and glares when he’s ignored, stepping up to the blender and turning it on in hopes that the loud noise will drive the other man away. It doesn’t. Zoro just lets out a rather pointed snore.

“Stupid furball,” Sanji grouses, deciding to ignore his unwanted company in favor of pouring out the drinks and garnishing them with fresh raspberries and a chocolate curl.

The deck is fairly tame when he emerges, giving Robin and Nami their drinks before looking around to check on the others. Luffy is sitting on the figurehead, Franky is sanding out the latest scratches Zoro’s left on the rails (and hopefully the last, since he made a small scratching post for Zoro to use in their room), and Brook is watching him work, humming a little tune. He doesn’t see Chopper or Usopp so he assumes they’re working somewhere on their own.

A cool sea breeze rustles his hair and tugs at his tie and Chopper emerges from the library, nose twitching as he makes his way over to Robin with a stack of books in his arms. As soon as he’s by her side, he catches sight of the chocolate piece in her smoothie and smiles happily when she holds it out for him to eat. “Thank you,” he says, already squirming and content from the sugar.

“Thank Sanji,” Robin says, a slight curve to her mouth. “He just brought them out.”

“Thank you, Sanji!” Chopper beams up at him and Sanji smiles back, pats his head and turns to give Robin his best smile.

“I’m glad you like it, Robin-chwan. Only a lovely lady like yourself would be so kind as to share.”

She chuckles softly and opens one of the books Chopper brought, ducking gracefully out of the conversation while Chopper turns to Sanji with excitement plain on his face.

“We’re looking up what happened to Zoro, there’s not much information on anything like this, but we’re hoping to find something,” he picks up a book and starts leafing through the pages. “That woman said Zoro should turn back on his own but I want to be sure. And Robin said there’s so much we can learn from this. And anything we find can help me treat Zoro better.” His face scrunches for a second and he looks back up at Sanji. “Have you see him? I told him I wanted to give him another check up.”

Sanji takes another long drag on his cigarette, buying himself time as he considers. “Last time I saw him he was napping,” he settles on. “You’ll be able to find him later.”

He flips the tray under his arm and heads back to the kitchen, flicking the back of one of Zoro’s ears as he passes, “You owe me,” he says.

Zoro opens one eye, watching silently as Sanji starts on the dishes.

“Chopper wants to examine you again,” he explains. “I told him you were napping.”

Zoro heaves a sigh and stretches out his legs a bit. Sanji can understand the feeling.

“At least Luffy hasn’t tried to play catch with you today,” he says, grinning at the way Zoro’s eye narrows.

And okay, yeah, maybe Sanji _can_ understand why Zoro’s suddenly started spending so much time in his kitchen. The crew, well meaning as they are, haven’t been the best at interacting with Zoro. Luffy still doesn’t know his strength and now Zoro’s not big enough to fend for himself. He wants to treat Zoro the same as always but doing so could put the other man at serious risk. It’s the same issue with Franky, who’s come a little too close to crushing Zoro underfoot on a number of occasions.

Nami teases him and threatens to raise his debt if he messes up her trees. Usopp doesn’t know what to do with him, not comfortable enough to tease Zoro like the others and not sure how to do anything else.

Chopper and Robin are curious, eager to learn all they can from Zoro’s change, but Chopper is worrying over every step Zoro takes and lovely as she is Sanji knows Robin can be a bit...passionate when it comes to knowledge. Brook is the only one who seems pretty nonplussed about the whole thing, but Zoro’s never been a huge fan of the skeleton’s humor and he usually comes with Luffy or Franky or Chopper in tow.

Relatively speaking, Sanji’s his best bet. He knows the marimo is still the same asshole as he’s always been and treats him as such, teasing him when he feels like it but aware enough to pull his punches. Not to mention the added security of the kitchen itself, since Sanji guards it against food-thieves and has everyone pretty well trained to stay out.

Somehow, in a grand twist of fate, _Sanji_ has become the easiest person for Zoro to be with. Sanji almost shudders at the thought, further weirded out by how easily he’s let the furball invade his kitchen. He’s let that idiot on the counters, for fuck’s sake. The counters!

He glances over to where Zoro’s fallen back asleep and shakes his head. At least they’re all getting through it, it could definitely be worse.

\-------------

“We’re here!” Luffy yells, laughing and practically vibrating with excitement.

Since they hadn’t been able to resupply at the last island Nami had found another. It’s a small and generally undisturbed landmass, a single community built up by the water where the occasional passing ship can stop by like they were doing now.

They all have their tasks and set to them as soon as the boat is anchored, everyone but Franky and Robin disembarking. Zoro had been supposed to stay behind as well, but he’d jumped down into the Mini Merry and no one wanted to turn around to take him back. So now Sanji’s stuck with him.

The unruly ball of fur is currently ruining Sanji’s suit along with his life, tucked against his side and meowing what Sanji’s sure are numerous insults and orders to put him down.

“No way, marimo,” Sanji says, lighting a cigarette and readjusting his grip. “You insisted on coming so this is how it’s going to be. We don’t need you getting lost like this, we’ll never find  you.”

Zoro lets out what Sanji supposes is a growl.

“Just deal with it, it’s not like anybody knows who you are,” Sanji blows out some smoke and looks down at Zoro consideringly. “Maybe we can find you a backpack, that’d be a hell of a lot easier than this.”

They don’t find a backpack, but they find a wagon and it works just as well, Sanji loading it up with the goods he finds while Zoro acts the silent sentinel atop the growing pile. The market street is small and narrow, making it easy to get overwhelmed by the press of voices and kicked up dust, and Sanji finds himself glancing back over his shoulder to check on Zoro more times than he’d care to admit.

But it also means he can hear conversations from a couple stalls over in all directions, voices of both vendors and customers echoing in the tight space.

“But I can’t afford that,” a soft, feminine voice says. “It was half that price last week.”

She sounds distressed and Sanji immediately zeros in, listening intently while his own vendor prattles on about peak seasons and the correct color of lettuce leaves. (Sanji already knows all of this, so he just nods and smiles along.)

“But you didn’t need it last week, did you?” The vendor chuckles and tosses a small bag up and down in his hand. “Supply and demand and all that.”

Sanji glances around and notices a few of the other vendors giving the scene an unimpressed glare. It seems the man hasn’t made himself many friends.

“Excuse me,” Sanji interrupts his vendor’s monologue politely, “That man over there, what does he sell?”

His vendor snorts, “Giatro? He’s the doctor around here, or at least the closest thing we have, sells different herbs and things like that. But unless you’re really in a bad way, I suggest you wait until the next island or he’ll swindle you out of all your money.”

Sanji hums thoughtfully, turning back to the exchange in question just in time to see the girl stumble backwards with a startled cry. He’s halfway to the scene to deliver some well deserved justice when he hears the vendor shout and let out a string of curses, jumping around on one leg and knocking over a display. Kneeling beside the girl and helping her stand, he watches as a flash of green runs out from behind the stall and stops at Sanji’s feet.

There’s a pouch of fabric in Zoro’s mouth and Sanji can’t help but smile as he takes it from him, handing it over to the girl who stammers out her thanks with blushing cheeks, crouching back down to give Zoro a pat on the head as well. Sanji assures her it was nothing and sends her on her way, warning her not to make it obvious what she’d been given.

No sooner has she disappeared back into the crowd than the supposed doctor stumbles back into an upright position, glaring daggers at Sanji and the unusually colored feline by his side.

“You,” he bellows. “Your stupid cat ruined my shop! You’re going to pay for that!”

Sanji takes a deep breath, blows smoke up at the sky and unhurriedly ashes his cigarette. “Oh? And why would I do that?”

“You-” the man starts, moving to come out into the street when he trips over some fallen jars and falls to the ground. The crowd around them bursts into laughter and Sanji takes that as their cue, grabbing the handle of their wagon and sauntering cooly down the street with Zoro seated atop their supplies, tail flicking through the air in victory.

\---------------

“Alright, well, let’s get this the fuck over with,” Sanji sighs, throwing a towel over his shoulder and sending a silent prayer up to the heavens.

Zoro growls at him from his spot beneath the dining room table.

“Come on, you know you need a bath. Cats self-groom, but you’re not actually a cat so we’ve got to do it this way.”

Zoro growls again. Sanji lets out another sigh.

“Look, I don’t want to do this either you shitty furball, but we don’t have a choice,” Sanji says. “It's either me or someone else on the crew and, as ridiculous as it sounds, I’m the least likely to kill you in the process.”

There’s silence this time. And Sanji can practically hear the gears turning in Zoro’s head before he finally emerges from beneath the table, hopping up onto the counter in a smooth arc then vaulting the next counter over. Sanji flicks the towel at him.

“Oi, oi, get down. What part of _you’re filthy_ did you not understand?”

But Zoro is undeterred, stretching his body up the side of one of the cupboards and meowing loudly.

“No,” Sanji shakes his head and pulls Zoro off the counter. “No way am I giving you booze. Chopper explicitly said it was bad for you.”

Zoro gives him a very unimpressed look.

“What? You can’t process the alcohol like this, you’d hardly be able to drink any before you were completely... out of it…” He looks down at Zoro consideringly. “I see. Not actually a bad idea for a marimo.”

Setting Zoro back on the counter, he pulls out a bottle of sake and pours a small amount into a dish, making sure to put the bottle away in case Zoro tries anything stupid before placing the alcohol in front of him. It’s lapped up in a matter of seconds and Zoro lets out a contented purr, a rumble deep in his chest that Sanji can actually feel when he scoops him up and starts carrying him to the bathroom.

“We’ll get this done fast and never speak of it again,” Sanji mutters, mostly to himself since Zoro already seems to be in a pretty happy place.

There’s a bucket of water waiting in the bathroom, still warm from when Sanji had filled it earlier, and an old cup sitting beside it. Rolling up his sleeves, Sanji tests the water then scoops some into the cup, pouring it down Zoro’s back and earning an indignant growl from the man himself, albeit a fairly soft and sleepy sounding one. He picks Zoro up next, one hand easily spanning his chest and supporting his head while the other goes under his stomach, holding him steady as he dunks him almost entirely underwater. He uses the cup to get the top of his head then puts him back on the floor again, having to bite his lip when Zoro lets out a high pitched sneeze and jolts some of the water from his fur.

If Sanji didn’t know better, he’d say Zoro was actually pretty adorable at the moment. But he does know better, so he keeps his mouth shut and focuses on thoroughly wetting the fur in front of him, getting it ready for the soap he rubs through it next. There’s a final dunk in the water, Sanji scrubbing fingers up and down Zoro’s spine, chest, and tiny limbs before pulling him out again, then Sanji rinses him off with the cup before deeming him good enough.

He wraps him in the towel slung over his shoulder and can’t help but chuckle at the way Zoro squirms in the fabric, glaring up at Sanji through one foggy eye before letting out a giant yawn. “Alright, alright, let’s get you back to your stupid chair, marimo.” He runs the towel over the top of Zoro’s head one last time as he stands and heads back towards the kitchen, exchanging the damp towel for a fresh one that he wraps Zoro in before settling him in one of the dining room chairs.

The other man is already half-asleep, eye drooping closed and chest rising and falling steadily, so Sanji slips back to the bathroom to clean up.

The kitchen is quiet when he returns, Zoro fully knocked out with his fur still standing every which way. Sanji lets out a fond sigh, one hip leaned against the counter and a small smile on his lips.

Somehow, taking care of the marimo hasn’t turned out to be so bad.

Not so bad at all.

\----------

If there’s one thing everyone on the crew knows, it’s how hopeless Zoro is with directions. In human form he’s at least easy to spot (not many green-haired swordsmen wandering around) and in a pinch Zoro can ask for directions himself or have someone lead him (not that it always helps). But as a cat, they’re all understandably worried about letting Zoro off the ship to wander, especially in a port city as big as this one.

He’s been able to get off the ship at every stop so far, once at the small town with Sanji and a couple of times at bare beaches where his green fur stuck out like a beacon against the sand. But now they’re here, and so are a few marine ships, and all the logical members of the crew know this spells trouble.

“Just stay back with Chopper and Usopp, you idiot. Why do you have to make this difficult?” Nami and Zoro are facing off, Zoro standing on top of the deck railing so he can meet her eye to eye.

He spits back a mixture of hisses and growls and easily hops out of the way when she makes to grab him.

“Fine, go get lost,” Nami says, still glaring at the stubborn swordsman. “We’ll leave you here so you can live out your days as a street cat.”

Zoro meows loudly back, eye narrowed.

“I’m sure Sanji will look after him,” Robin says, strolling calmly down from the upper deck. “Am I right?”

Sanji immediately twirls towards her and takes her hand, kneeling to the ground. “Of course. Anything for you, Robin-chan.”

She smiles down at him knowingly before taking back her hand, moving to stand by Nami and ask about their plans for the day. That small smile has Sanji fighting down a blush, unsure why he needs to feel embarrassed about something as simple as protecting a member of the crew, but having a feeling there was more to her look than that. Had she seen something? She’s been down to the galley when Zoro’s been sleeping on a chair, but that’s hardly incriminating.

Had she…had she found out about the bath? But that was just one crewmate taking care of another, right?

Sanji shakes his head and takes another drag on his cigarette, pushing those thoughts away for later. He doesn’t even know what to do with half of them, especially the half concerning a certain green ball of fur.

Zoro’s still sitting on the railing and Sanji stands next to him, blowing out a cloud of smoke before looking down at him. “How come I’m stuck babysitting your sorry ass?”

Zoro meows and swipes at him, nearly catching his cigarette before Sanji pulls back.

“Oi!” Sanji flicks his ear and nearly gets his finger bitten off in the process. “Stupid furball, I’ll kick you into the sea.”

They glare at each other for a moment before Sanji notices the docks coming into view, taking a step back and looking Zoro over. They’re going to be in a pretty big city, and besides his earrings Zoro looks just like the average stray, scarred and battered to match the rest of the alley cats. A collar is definitely out of the question, but there has to be something else… He gets an idea and ends up rummaging through Zoro’s locker, looking in the stack of clothes from when he’d changed to find what he’s looking for.

He makes a quick stop by the infirmary then rejoins Zoro at the rail.

“Oi, marimo, come here so I can put this on you.”

Zoro looks up at him, thoroughly unimpressed until he notices just _what_ Sanji is holding. It’s his bandana, dark fabric worn soft and now with the strawhat jolly roger patched onto one side.

“That patch can come off later, so you can stop growling at me,” Sanji quips, ashing his cigarette before sticking it between his teeth, holding out the fabric in question.

The other man glares at him a moment more then lets out a huff, a sound Sanji takes as the invitation he needs to tie the bandana carefully around Zoro’s neck.

It turns out to be a better idea than Sanji expected because as soon as they hit land they’re swept into the mass of people milling around the docks, crowd a constant stream flowing between the ships and the city streets. There are stray cats and dogs rummaging through alleyways and children darting between feet. Apparently there’s a festival in town and the crowds are heavier than usual, but the markets are also overflowing with goods.

Sanji takes a moment to look over his shoulder and make sure the ladies are still together and faring well. He’s not worried about the guys, especially since Chopper’s safely back on the ship and can’t be swept away, but he does find himself leaning down to swoop Zoro quickly up into the crook of his arm. He ignores the affronted yowl and starts cutting faster through the crowd.

“I’ll put you down when we’re in the city, but if you get kicked now and go in the water we’ll never find you.”

Zoro quiets at that, but his body is still tense, ears pressed back and obviously unhappy with the situation. They get a few curious looks as they get farther away from the docks, crowd thinning and slowing down enough for people to notice the uniqueness of the cat in his arms.

“Alright,” he finally says, releasing his hold on Zoro so he can drop to the ground. “Stay close to me and don’t get lost. If you do, find somewhere high and start yowling so I can find you.”

Even in his current position Zoro still manages to insult Sanji with a meow and a tail flip, padding off ahead of Sanji without so much as a second glance. The stupid bastard.

He isn’t a _complete_ bastard though, because he does stay mostly nearby, occasionally running between Sanji’s feet or tripping him up as he moves from shop to shop.

Since the marines are in town they all agreed to keep the stop short, gathering as much as possible before setting sail in no more than a day. Once he’s done a cursory walkthrough of the main market street, he pulls out his small den den mushi and gives Franky a call.

“Oi, I’m ready. Where are you?”

He watches Zoro out of the corner of his eye as the other man finds a tree and hops onto its trunk, claws digging into the bark as he scrambles up to the higher branches. Once he finishes the call, he saunters over and looks up into the sparse foliage.

“Franky’s on his way,” he says to the golden eye staring back at him. “Get down so we can meet him.”

But Zoro just meows once and doesn’t move.

Sanji clenches his teeth, “Stop fucking around, shitty-marimo.”

Leaves rustle as Zoro finally hops off his branch, but instead of coming back down he’s jumped higher, going from branch to branch until he can hop onto a nearby rooftop. Sanji glares up at him, but Zoro just looks smug, a glint of mischief sparking in his eye right before he reaches a paw towards one of the potted plants lined up on the ledge.

“You-!”

Sanji doesn’t have time to finish his threat before Zoro bats the pot off the edge, doing a cat’s best approximation of a snicker as Sanji dodges it and lets it shatter on the ground, gaining the unwanted attention of the shoppers around them. He doesn’t know what the marimo’s problem is, but Sanji has work to do.

“I’m going to buy a cat crate with all your sake money, bastard!” he calls up to the roof.

Zoro meows back at him, slow and uninflected, like Sanji is actually _boring_ him.

“You fucking-”

“Oi, Sanji!”

Sanji turns and sees Franky coming towards them through the crowd, drawing even more attention to their eclectic group. There’s already a space in the crowd around him (a small opening around the crazy man fighting with a cat) and it only grows bigger once Franky steps up to his side.

“What’s going on here?” Franky asks, looking around. “I thought I heard you yelling at someone.”

“I was,” Sanji takes a long drag off his cigarette and points up to the roof. “That idiot won’t get down.”

Franky shades his eyes and squints up towards the sky, laughing out loud when he sees the broken pot on the ground and puts the pieces together. “He’ll be fine. He’s a strong fighter, even if his body is small.”

“Whatever you say, let’s just get this done before he goes and gets himself hopelessly lost.”

Sanji starts off back down the street and Franky falls into step beside him.

In no time at all Franky’s arms are piled high with goods and heading back to the ship, leaving Sanji to go back and collect Zoro on his own. They passed Nami and Robin earlier so he knows they’re still out on the town, and it’s safe to assume Luffy’s still exploring as well. Brook...he’s never sure what Brook does when he wanders off on his own, but he’s usually not the one they need to worry about causing trouble.

No sooner has the thought crossed his mind when the sound of gunfire echoes through the street, followed by the confused shouts of the civilians around him. Further down the street people start yelling about marines and pirates in the plaza.

“Shit,” he curses under this breath. Then he takes off running, not naive enough to think one of the crew isn’t involved.

He’s nearly there when the ground suddenly shakes and a tremendous boom rings through the whole city, a cloud of dust sweeping through the streets and making Sanji raise an arm to shield his face. The people around him are all running in the opposite direction, but Sanji keeps heading for the plaza, arriving to find a pile of rubble and a few lingering marines. Most of them seem to have been crushed, but the ones still standing have their guns raised, pointed at Brook and Luffy on the other side of the open space. The marines fire, shots easily deflected, and the strawhats are on them in an instant.

Sanji joins the fight, kicking down whoever stands in his way, but stops when he hears Luffy call his name. He stands up and looks over his shoulder.

Luffy’s hat is pulled down, creating a shadow over his face, but Sanji can still see the serious expression there. “Find Zoro,” he says.

Sanji takes the cigarette out of his mouth. “The marimo?”

“He was in the plaza when the building fell,” he shoots his arm out and punches a few of the marines who’ve tried taking him off guard. “We’ll take care of things here.”

Sanji doesn’t have to be told twice. He quickly hops up onto the rubble pile, hopping from stone to stone as his eyes scan for a familiar flash of mossy green. His hands clench. What had that idiot been thinking? No one would’ve worried about Zoro had he been human-- he’s been crushed and come out unscathed enough times for them to realize he’s just too strong to be killed so easily, but now… he’s a fucking cat. A fucking _tiny_ cat.

Sanji curses under his breath and comes to a stop in the center of the entire mess. “Oi, can you hear me, you stupid furball?”

And it’s hard to make out with the mayhem going on around him, but he can just barely hear a tiny meow from somewhere beneath the rubble. Relief floods over him instantly.

“You’re an idiot,” Sanji calls, listening for the responding meow. “Who the hell gets themselves buried under a building like this?”

He gets another meow for that, louder and definitely more pissed off. Good, Sanji can use that.

“Bet you can’t even get yourself out, can you? Stupid furball. Probably stuck under there until I come save you,” he lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I tend to only offer my white knight services to the deserving fair maidens, but I suppose just this once I could make an exception. Given the circumstances.”

And _that_ , that gets a reaction, a shower of small rocks exploding up from a nearby break in the stones before Zoro comes flying out, hissing and spitting and headed straight for Sanji’s face. Zoro gets his devil-teeth just above Sanji’s eyebrow before Sanji can catch him, pulling him back and cursing him out. Zoro just yowls and hisses right back.

“Oh, you found him!” Luffy grins, landing next to them and poking Zoro in the face until the other man bats his hand away.

Sanji sighs and adjusts his grip, then freezes when he notices the sticky warmth against his hands. He holds Zoro back up to his face and looks at him more closely, cursing at what he sees. Zoro’s fur is dyed darker with blood, matted around one side of his head and sticky all down his back and sides. “You idiot,” Sanji hisses.

“You idiot,” he echoes again, setting Zoro’s now unconscious body down in Chopper’s infirmary while the small doctor bustles around anxiously. The rest of the crew is waiting up on deck as Chopper carefully pushes the fur away to reveal scrapes and cuts of varying sizes. Some of them are filled with dirt and pebbles, others are still oozing red.

“What happened?” he asks, that high pitched worry he gets in his voice whenever any of them are hurt.

“A building fell on him.”

“A building?” Chopper shrieks, a renewed vigor to his motions. “I thought you were fighting marines...why would they do something like that?”

Sanji shrugs, itching for a cigarette just for something to do with his hands, a way to ease some of the tension in the room.

“They didn’t do it,” Brook says. He steps into the room and looks down at Zoro’s tiny form. “He’s an amazing fighter, Zoro. And even with such a body...he was still so cool!” He goes from serious to dramatic in a flash, stars in his eyes as he recounts the events of the fight.

“I found myself in some trouble in town. Some of my fans had recognized me and drew the attention of the marines, I was going to run, but Luffy passed by and well…”

_“Ah, Brook!” Luffy grins, head tilting to the side when he notices the skeleton’s odd position. “What’re you doing?”_

_The marines in the plaza all shout at once, “Strawhat!” Their commander scrambles and more guns are drawn._

_“Eh?” Luffy keeps eating the drumstick in his hand as he watches the commotion. Then he turns back to Brook. “Are we supposed to fight them?”_

_Brook stalls for a moment, knowing Nami had given them strict orders not to get into any trouble. But, it seems trouble has found them regardless…_

_His eyes widen when he sees them bring out cannons (or they would, if he had eyes, yohoho) and Luffy follows his gaze, frowning when he sees the weapons as well._

_Firing them in such close proximity to civilians, the marines wouldn’t dare. Would they? Luffy’s free hand clenches and Brook grabs the hilt of his sword, preparing to fight but pausing when they see a flash of green dart between the nearest line of marines. Luffy grins and lets out a quiet laugh as Zoro disappears into the group of marines operating the cannons, laughing louder when the marines suddenly start to shout, one of them stumbling and firing early, flailing wildly as Zoro bites at anything he can find._

_The marine eventually manages to knock Zoro to the ground and pull a gun, pointing it at their crewmate’s head. “Stupid cat!” the man bellows. The marines around him draw their weapons as well, looking warily at the feline who broke into their midst. Then, they all freeze, listening in growing fear as the building the cannon struck groans and creaks, devolving into frantic shouts just before it topples over and buries them beneath a pile of dust and rubble._

“And then you came along, Sanji. I’m glad you were able to find him so quickly,” Brook finishes.

“I’m glad, too,” Chopper says, lower lip quivering slightly as he tucks the last bandage into place around Zoro’s chest. “He should be fine. But he needs to rest.”

“Just lock him in the infirmary,” Sanji quips, playing off his own nerves as he stands to head back on deck. “It’s not like he can break out right now.”

The rest of the crew are happy to hear about Zoro’s recovery, but Sanji finds he can’t linger too long on deck, an uncomfortable feeling rising in his chest whenever anyone mentions Zoro’s name-- it’s a protective kind of worry, one that he’s not used to associating with the other man.

It hasn’t even been an hour since he left the infirmary when he makes his way to the kitchen, freezing and letting out an exasperated sigh when he sees the ball of green fur curled up on his favorite chair.

“You better not have ruined your bandages escaping,” he says. “Chopper’s already going to yell at you as it is.”

Zoro just cracks open a bleary eye, looks up at Sanji for a long moment before letting it slide shut again. His breaths are coming easier now than they had been before and within in instant his body takes on the heaviness of a well deserved rest. Sanji decides to leave him be, giving the chair a gentle nudge further under the table before stepping into the kitchen and taking another drag on his cigarette.

He still has the new supplies to organize and dinner to cook, tasks that keep him busy for a few hours as the marimo sleeps out in the dining room. It takes longer than usual, too, since he tries to move quietly, knowing Zoro sleeps like the dead but still careful not to wake him. Because Zoro only sleeps like the dead when he feels safe enough to sleep like the dead, and Sanji has no idea whether Zoro will feel that comfortable after coming face to face with the inferior strength of his current body. So, he’s trying to keep it down while he works. Common courtesy, basic manners, nothing to it at all.

He does, however, have to admit to a bit of a soft spot when dinner's almost ready and he glances over at the man still sleeping in the other room. The place is about to become a circus and Sanji knows Zoro needs to move, but they’re supposed to be keeping an eye on him as well. The infirmary is out since Zoro will just escape again and possibly hurt himself worse in the process. So in his defense, he really doesn’t have many options.

He starts rifling through his towel drawer for something appropriately soft, ignoring the little voice in his head pointing out how much thought he’s putting into something so simple. He grabs a basket next and lines it with the towel he’s found, something well-worn but still thick, the perfect size to pad the basket’s base and sides with enough left over to drape over Zoro for warmth. Now he just has to get the other man into it.

It turns out to be easier than expected, Zoro remaining limp and asleep in Sanji’s hands as he’s moved from the chair to the basket, readjusting slightly as Sanji tucks the towel in around him. Sanji considers tucking the basket into a cupboard but decides Zoro would prefer being somewhere open despite the noise, so settles for tucking him into the kitchen corner instead. He’s out of the way, hidden, and can be close to the crew without being overwhelmed.

Sanji thinks it’s perfect.

He’s especially pleased with himself when he pulls Chopper aside to show him, explaining that the marimo had once again given the infirmary the slip but not to worry because he was still resting peacefully. Chopper had still insisted on quickly looking over Zoro’s bandages, but everything checked out okay, meaning Zoro could be left to sleep while Sanji called the rest of the crew to dinner.

The room explodes into its normal chaos, but there’s a different current to it tonight that Sanji can’t help but notice. Miles out to sea and the safest they tend to get, the crew is still the slightest on edge, more aware now of the danger inherent in Zoro’s situation. As a man Zoro seems unbreakable (and he still managed to take out nearly an entire company of marines as a cat) so to see him suddenly bloody and unconscious and laid up in bed...it’s unsettling for all of them.

They all care for each other more than they like to admit, that’s for sure.

Turning his back to the crew to pull something out of the oven, Sanji catches sight of Zoro and lets out a quiet laugh. The idiot is tangled in the towel, limbs everywhere and mouth open, little snores escaping with every breath. He looks more like himself than he has since he first changed and Sanji can’t help the warm feeling in his chest, both at the acknowledgment that Zoro still feels safe, surrounded by his crew in Sanji’s kitchen, but also knowing that deep down Zoro hasn’t changed. He’s still the same mannerless idiot.

And Sanji really, really wants him back.

\------------

“What?” Chopper shrieks, flailing for the paper as Luffy laughs hysterically, rolling around the deck and kicking his legs like a child. “How does he have a higher bounty than me?”

“Who does?” Usopp asks, looking over Chopper’s shoulder curiously then opening his mouth in shock.

“His picture’s better, too,” Luffy laughs, “So cool!”

Chopper jumps onto Luffy and tickles him relentlessly for that, demanding he take it back. Usopp is dragged into the wrestling match and Franky jumps in without any provocation. As usual, the deck of the Thousand Sunny is a ridiculous mess, but even Nami can’t keep the exasperated smile from her face.

“What’re those idiots yelling about?” She asks, flipping through the pages of a magazine and looking over her sunglasses to the roughhousing going on down below. “Sanji, why don’t you go find out?”

“Right away, Nami-san!” He jumps down onto the deck and finds the paper laying on the ground from where Chopper had dropped it. There’s a new set of wanted posters and he flicks through them quickly, not seeing any of their faces and wondering what all the yelling was about. Then, he sees it-- Zoro has a new poster.

And it’s not Roronoa Zoro the pirate hunter. It’s Zoro as he’s currently stuck, listed simply as Strawhat Cat with a picture of him facing down the barrel of a gun, jolly roger on his bandana clearly visible. How someone managed to take the picture he’ll never understand but there it is in black and white. He’s just glad they got Zoro’s right side and not his left (they didn’t need to risk anyone connecting the dots). His breath of relief is quickly cut off, however, when he sees the bounty listed below.

“1,000,000 beri!?”

Forcing himself under control, he quickly goes and shows the paper to Nami and Robin, the former letting out a surprised shout of her own and the latter simply nodding.

“I wondered if he’d get a bounty,” she says calmly. “The marines on that island were under one of the admiral’s sons. And according to Brook’s story, he did crush a large number of marines. The streets were probably stained with their blood.”

Nami shudders at Robin’s macabre words but turns her attention back to the group still wrestling on the deck, “So that’s why Chopper’s upset? Because his bounty is still the lowest?”

“I believe so, Nami-san.”

She huffs and shakes her head, “I don’t know why you’re all so eager to have a high price on your head.”

Robin chuckles quietly beside her and Sanji gives them a final smile before making his way down to the kitchen.

He finds the marimo exactly where he’d left him, tucked into his basket underneath one of the dining room chairs. Since that first night after his injuries, Zoro’s spent most of his time in the bed Sanji made. He sleeps like the dead and moves only when he has to, snoring away while Sanji works in the kitchen, reads at the table, or steps over him serving dinner. It’s only been a couple days so Sanji’s trying not to let this sudden listlessness get to him too much, but he worries all the same.

Zoro blinks awake when Sanji crouches down beside him, letting out a jaw cracking yawn. The basket rocks slightly as he readjusts to a more comfortable position.

“Look at this,” Sanji says without preamble, holding up the paper for Zoro to inspect. It takes a moment, but before too long Zoro pulls back and starts making this odd wheezing sound that Sanji knows is the closest he can get to laughter. It goes on for a few minutes and Sanji eventually joins in.

“I think you broke Chopper, too. You should’ve seen his face when he saw.”

There’s moisture gathered in the corner of Zoro’s eye and he wipes it off with the back of his paw before letting out another quiet laugh. He’s looking a lot better now, Sanji notes, more alert than the first few times Sanji’d woken him up to eat or drink or so Chopper could check his bandages. But he still doesn’t look good either. Just this small exchange has left him tired again, Sanji can tell, so he’s just a little reluctant to bring up his second topic of conversation. He hadn’t come down here just to show Zoro his new found infamy, after all.

“Chopper says you should get another bath, too,” he says. “Your wounds should be healed enough to get wet and we need to get the rest of the blood out of your fur.”

Zoro looks down at the paper and puts a paw over the picture there, the one of his actual face, and Sanji can tell this whole predicament has gotten to Zoro more than he’s let anyone know. Because Zoro may profess his trust in fate and chance, but this situation is putting his dream at stake, and it’s impeded his ability to protect the crew, something Sanji knows Zoro takes more seriously than almost anyone. He can’t be as strong as he’d like to be and moments like this just reinforce that fact.

“Don’t be stupid,” Sanji tisks, scooping Zoro into his arms. “You’ll be back to your ugly mug in no time, scaring off the ladies wherever you go. You should enjoy this body while you have the chance.”

He gets a half-hearted swat to the face for his troubles.

They get to the bathroom and Sanji repeats the process of cleaning him off, extra careful this time around so he doesn’t aggravate any of Zoro’s wounds. The other man stays still and quiet as Sanji works and they both get through it without the aid of alcohol. Thankfully, everything seems to be healing fine and before long Zoro is wrapped in another dry towel waiting for his fur to dry so Chopper can re-apply his bandages.

He’s still tucked into the crook of Sanji’s arm when they get back into the kitchen, already half-asleep from the earlier excitement and the bathing ordeal. Sanji contemplates putting him back in his basket, but Zoro’s fur is wet enough he worries it’ll make the other towel damp as well. And the last thing they need is for Zoro to get sick on top of everything else.

Making up his mind, he grabs another towel then settles down on the dining room sofa, quickly fashioning a small nest on his lap to hold Zoro’s towel-wrapped form. Once Zoro is peacefully snoring away in a warm, scruffy ball, Sanji leans back and flips open a book, prepared to get some reading done while the marimo dries.

He doesn’t give much thought to the position they’re in until he feels Zoro start to stir a few chapters later. His fingers immediately freeze in the process of flicking to the next page, tensing slightly in preparation for the claws that are sure to come flying at his face in indignation. After a moment, Zoro pauses as well, seems to realize the unusual warmth and give of his new sleeping spot. Sanji can practically _feel_ the gaze boring through the pages of his book.

But he refuses to be the first one to strike, he’d been doing this for Zoro’s own good, dammit. He shouldn’t even have to defend himself!

Then, as soon as the tension appeared, it dissipates, replaced instead by the warmth in Sanji’s chest and the blush blooming across his cheeks when Zoro simply yawns and cuddles back down in his lap, little paws poking out of the towel nest and resting gently on Sanji’s thigh. The bastard! Sanji bites his lip and stares resolutely down at the pages of his book, refusing to give any more of a reaction. He’s not supposed to find the stupid furball cute! He’s just a shitty, grumpy, stubborn moss-head of a swordsman. There’s definitely no reason for Sanji’s heart to be doing the backflips he usually reserves from the fairer persuasion.

And yet here he is, swooning over a simple cuddle with none other than Roronoa Zoro.

Because that’s definitely what this is, no doubt about it. Sanji’s familiar enough with the sensation to recognize it when it comes.

He takes a moment to consider if Zoro was human... if he’d still feel the same. He tries to imagine he and the swordsman in this same position, Zoro sleeping peacefully in Sanji’s lap straight out of the bath, wrapped in nothing but a towel and still damp from the water…

His eyes widen and blood spurts suddenly from his nose, getting onto the pages of the book and part of Zoro’s towel.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself. “Fucking hell.”

Because, well, that certainly answers that.

\-------------

Much to Sanji’s simultaneous pleasure and dismay, Zoro seems to think he has an open invitation to use Sanji as his personal space heater. His wounds are healing nicely and he’s been given run of the ship again, meaning he’s back to climbing trees and damaging woodwork and swatting at anyone who tries to pick him up. It seems like he’s more rambunctious than before his injuries, causing more havoc on deck before inevitably ducking back into the kitchen to sleep.

It doesn’t take the crew very long to realize this is Zoro’s new form of training.

He runs laps around the deck chasing and being chased by Luffy; he climbs up and down Nami’s trees under her ever watchful eye. Sanji’s even walked in on him trying to swing Wado around just by gripping the hilt with his pointy teeth. (What’s even more disturbing is that he’d actually managed a few good slashes before falling over.)

Still, with all of the energy he’s expending he’s apparently not content to just nap under the dining room chair. He’s taken to finding Sanji instead, curling up beside him or even plopping himself in Sanji’s lap to sprawl out and basically pass into a coma. It’s gotten to the point that whenever Sanji sits down in the kitchen he’s pretty much guaranteed to have a mossy growth at his side in less than five minutes-- it’s like Zoro’s developed a sixth sense for when Sanji decides to take a break.

Still, having Zoro somewhat back to himself is nice. He distracts Luffy and plays with Chopper and has bitten enough of their ankles that Usopp is back to treating him as normal. Because Zoro might be a bit different, he might need some help with things he hadn’t before, but he’s still Zoro. And Sanji’s glad to see Zoro believing in that himself.

That, and it was more tiring that he’d like to admit trying to pick up the other man’s slack. Zoro might not be one of the oldest of the crew, but he’s mature for his age and can be serious when needed. He keeps up with Nami’s drinking and watches out for Chopper and knocks Luffy upside the head when he does something stupid. He helps Sanji carry supplies, helps Franky move things around the ship, takes the late watch and protects the ship when everyone else is sleeping. Each of them is a vital part of the crew, so a loss of any of them would be hard, but Zoro’s been there since the beginning. No one knows what it’s like for him not to be there.

Sanji sighs and lets a rueful smile curve his lips, “You really don’t appreciate something until it’s gone, huh.”

The sea spans out ahead of him and he leans against the rail. There are things he could do, but there’s a headache looming behind his temples and he can’t quite make his feet move.

“Meow meowr, meow.”

Sanji knows that tone, knows he’s just been insulted in Zoro’s obnoxious deadpan, the tone he gets when he just stares at Sanji like he’s being particularly dense and putting Zoro out by making him point out the obvious.

“What do you want, marimo?”

Zoro stares at him, head tilted to the side and eye narrowed, scrutinizing.

“Go be creepy somewhere else,” Sanji says, ashing his cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke up to the sky, moving to back away from the rail to give himself some personal space. But before he can, Zoro lunges forward, grabs Sanji’s suit jacket by one of the lapels and starts trotting along the rail. It’s a dirty trick, knowing Sanji will move with him to save his suit from tearing, moving just fast enough that Sanji can’t twist himself free. They end up at the entrance to the infirmary and Zoro jumps on Sanji’s back, knocks him forward into the door.

“What the hell is your problem?” Sanji growls, half-tempted to fling Zoro into the ocean.

But Zoro leans forward and bites Sanji’s ear, not hard, but enough to sting.

“What the _fuck-_?”

The door opens and Sanji stumbles through, apologizing to Chopper between curses before reaching back and trying to grab Zoro by the neck. But the little guy is tricky, and evil, because he just slips around to Sanji’s front, claws pricking his scalp as the bastard uses his head as a springboard, jumping for the kitchen door and somehow catching the handle on his way down, making the door swing open with his weight.

“You’re fish bait, you hear me!” Sanji shouts, ignoring Chopper’s exclamations not to get in a fight. If the shithead felt good enough to start a fight, then he obviously felt well enough for Sanji to finish one.

The galley is empty when he storms in, eyes scanning for any sign of the wicked furball that was about to be introduced to his shoe. Moving further into the room, he wonders what Zoro thinks to gain from getting him in the kitchen. This is Sanji’s domain, after all; he’ll have the advantage and Zoro has to know that.

He’s about to pass by the table when a flash of green springs from the vents and rams into his face, sending him stumbling backwards until he topples back onto the couch.

“You fucker!” Sanji shouts and grabs at Zoro, finally catching him but not feeling any better since Zoro hadn’t even tried to doge. The bastard is just staring down at him all smug and knowing even though Sanji’s the one with his hands around his furry little neck.

“Sanji!” Chopper is yelling from the doorway. “You have to be careful, I told you both not to roughhouse when he’s like this!”

Sanji grits his teeth, fingers twitching against Zoro’s chest.

“Meow, meow meow meowr,” Zoro says, not looking away from Sanji.

Chopper freezes and gets a strange look on his face, like he’s mad and relieved and trying not to laugh all at once. “Alright, but try not to be so rough next time. I mean it.”

“What?” Sanji looks between Chopper and Zoro, “What’d he say?” He knows Chopper can understand animals, and by extension can still understand Zoro, but Zoro has refused speak through Chopper from the very beginning, going so far as to not speak whenever the opportunity could arise.

“I’ll keep everyone out of the kitchen for you,” Chopper says, ignoring Sanji completely. Zoro says something back and the little reindeer’s face squishes up in happiness, “Don’t thank me,  you bastard. It’s my job. Shut up, you asshole.”

The door to the infirmary shuts and Sanji is left to stare up at the ceiling in confusion. Zoro’s still just looking at him, not trying to escape or bite him or slash at his face, and Sanji’s not sure what to do with the sudden change in events.

“What the hell was that?” he asks, glaring up at Zoro before setting him down on his chest (he doesn’t let him go though, he’s not that trusting yet).

Zoro meows once and butts at Sanji’s hand, nudging it off of him enough so that he can push at Sanji’s chest with his paws then settle into the now-wrinkled fabric. He yawns once, readjusts his head, then promptly closes his eyes and goes still.

Sanji blinks down at him, then looks up at the ceiling, then back down again. “You-” he starts, unable to believe what is happening. “Did you seriously drag me down here just so you’d have someplace to sleep!?” There’s no response, but Sanji knows Zoro’s not actually asleep yet. “At least move to my lap, you bastard, I can’t get anything done like this.”

Zoro opens an eye at that, fixes Sanji with a meaningful look before settling further into place.

Is that the point then? Is Sanji not _supposed_ to be able to move?

He suddenly thinks back to earlier that day, when Chopper had caught up with him after breakfast.

_“Are you okay, Sanji?” Chopper asks. He has his serious face on and Sanji immediately knows he’s got to go on the defensive._

_“I’m fine,” he says, stacks a few more plates back into the cupboards then turns to face the little doctor. “We haven’t been in a fight in a long time, why wouldn’t I be?”_

_Chopper doesn’t look the least bit convinced. “It’s not just fights that hurt people. You look tired, make sure you get more sleep. And come to my office if you start feeling bad at all.” Sanji doesn’t respond so Chopper presses him further. “Do you promise? Or should I take you there now and make sure you’re fine? I could give you something to help you sleep.”_

_The threat is innocent enough but it gets to Sanji loud and clear. “Yeah, I promise. But I’m really fine, Chopper. Just tired, like you said.”_

He thought he had seen a flash of green around the corner after turning away from the conversation and now he knows for sure that the marimo had been listening. Leave it to him to pull a stunt like this.

“Stupid marimo,” Sanji mutters, flicking Zoro lightly on the ear before leaning his head back and relaxing into the cushions.

He and the doctor want him to sleep? Fine, he’ll sleep. But then they won’t be able to complain when dinner’s late, or if Luffy gets bored or Usopp needs help or--

His thoughts grind to a halt at the sudden tightening in his chest, entire body flooding with warmth at the small, rumbling sensation reverberating through his chest. Zoro is- Zoro is actually _purring._ He sucks in a breath and chances a look down at the little marimo, biting his lip when he sees how Zoro’s bunched up some of the fabric of Sanji’s shirt beneath his chin.

The purring continues and Sanji finds himself not worrying anymore, running a gentle finger down Zoro’s back before relaxing again and shutting his eyes. He’ll sleep for just a little bit, long enough to make Zoro and Chopper happy, and then he’ll get back to work.

It’ll be alright if he just sleeps for a little while...

\--------------

It’s been a month now since Zoro was shrunk down to a pint-sized, furry terror. He’s made the best of it, taking advantage of the situation to train his body in new ways, meditate longer, and find new ways to help on the ship. There had been one memorable day when Sanji’d had to bathe him again after getting a knock on the door from a laughing Franky and a growling and grease-covered Zoro. Apparently, Zoro’s size made him perfect for shimmying through different pipes and channels to check on some machines or clean out gear boxes. They didn’t have to open up machinery, but it meant Sanji had to use nearly an entire bar of soap to get all the gunk out of Zoro’s fur.

They’d even found ways to let Zoro get back to some of his old jobs. Franky and Usopp had come up with a pulley system so Zoro could get himself to and from the crow’s nest, and had installed a special buzzer so that if Zoro did see something he could turn on the speakers and just press the alarm, alerting everyone to an impending danger.

The crew has gotten back into the groove of things and as much as they miss their swordsman the way he was before, they’re learning how to move on with the current situation.

Still, Sanji has to admit it’s a little unexpected when he walks into the galley and hears noises in the pantry-- muffled scratching and the ring of rattling bowls, a thud as something falls to the ground. He opens the door ready to yell at whoever’s messing up his pantry, but stops when he sees nobody inside. Then, from the back corner, there’s another flurry of scratching and thumping and a final growl before Zoro comes slinking out into the open with a dead rat limp between his jaws.

Sanji doesn’t know what to be more horrified at. The fact that there was a rat in his kitchen, or that Zoro had just killed said rat with his freaking _teeth._

“Drop it, marimo. Drop it right the fuck now,” he quickly grabs a towel and holds it under Zoro’s mouth, wrapping up the dead intruder as soon as it falls into his hand. He wastes no time marching out on deck and throwing the body in with the rest of the bait pail. When he gets back to the kitchen Zoro has left the pantry and is sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor instead, looking expectantly up at Sanji.

“What?” Sanji asks. “What do you want? And don’t think you’re leaving this kitchen before I wash your paws and you rinse your mouth. Hopefully that thing wasn’t carrying anything.”

He washes his own hands in the sink then looks back to Zoro, eyebrow raising when he sees the other man has moved and is pawing at one of the cupboards, meowing at Sanji once he sees he has his attention.

“Are you kidding me? You were drunk off your ass after hardly any last time.” Zoro meows at him again and Sanji relents, “Fine, but only because you caught that thing. Maybe the alcohol will sterilize your mouth.”

Zoro lets out a happy chirrup, one of the newer sounds he’s starting making, and crouches to hop up on the counter, looking genuinely surprised when Sanji quickly grabs him before he has the chance.

“What did I tell you about your disgusting paws on my counters? And especially after you’ve just killed something.” He holds the man against his side with one arm and wets his free hand under the sink, quickly cleaning off all four paws before setting him down on a towel. He grabs what’s become Zoro’s mealtime water dish and pours barely a teaspoon of sake into the divot, placing it in front of Zoro before turning to look at the pantry.

The rat must’ve gotten in at their last stop on shore, snuck on board with some supplies-- probably the ones they got from that grain vendor, guy was sleazy. Hopefully it was just the one. If anymore showed up he’d have to set up mouse traps or something.He certainly wasn’t going to let Zoro go after any more of the filthy things, even if the idiot would probably think of it as some kind of training exercise.

He hears Zoro licking at the bottom of the dish and goes back over to take it away from him, looking up when he hears someone coming through the door. It’s Chopper, and it only takes one twitch of the reindeer’s nose before his eyes are narrowing and he’s yelling at both of them from across the room.

“Is that alcohol? Sanji! I told you not to give him any!”

Sanji quickly takes the dish and rinses it in the sink, listening to half of the conversation as Zoro picks up the argument.

“I don’t care if it was just a little! ….. No, I will not calm down. I’m your doctor and alcohol is bad for you in this body! ….. What do you mean you’ve had it before!?”

With that Chopper’s ire turns back to Sanji and he raises his hands in surrender before the situation can get worse. “This is only the second time, and it was less than a spoonful each time. Besides, he just had a rat in his mouth and it’s not like I’m going to try and brush his teeth.”

That seems to get Chopper’s attention. “A rat?” He turns to Zoro and looks at him with wide eyes. “Did you eat it? …. _So what if I did_? What do you mean _so what if I did_? You shouldn’t eat things if you don’t know where they’ve been…. But you’re not actually a cat! And we don’t know if you becoming more cat-like is bad or not! You have to try to resist those instincts.”

Zoro huffs and nudges at his water bowl, giving Chopper one last rather pathetic sounding meow.

“If you’re hungry, get Sanji to make you something. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

Sanji’s head snaps up at that. “You’re hungry? Why the hell didn’t you say something?” Another meow, this one more defensive, and Sanji doesn’t even need Chopper to know what Zoro’s said. “You haven’t had any problem getting your point across so far, and you know I would rather feed you than have you eat a _rat_.” He punches in the code to the fridge and gets out the ingredients he’s set aside for Zoro’s food, setting out the rest of the materials he needs with a bit more force than strictly necessary.

“Sanji’s right, Zoro. Remember you’re still a person. If I think it’s getting too hard for you to remember, I’m going to say something to Luffy.”

Zoro bristles at that but doesn’t say anything as the little doctor returns to the infirmary, leaving Zoro and Sanji to themselves in the suddenly too quiet kitchen. The silence doesn’t break until Sanji finishes preparing Zoro’s food. He sets the small dish in front of Zoro and leans into the counter beside him.

“You’ll turn back,” he says simply. Zoro glances up at him but Sanji’s already leaning away again, lighting a fresh cigarette and blowing smoke up into the vents.

\--------------

The bunk room is pitch dark and filled with the sound of quiet and not so quiet snoring. It has to be somewhere around four in the morning because Zoro’s finally crawling into bed, a fact Sanji is all too aware of considering it’s _his_ bed Zoro’s crawling into.

It had started simply enough. They were sailing through a random cold spot in their travels and Zoro’s body wasn’t the greatest at retaining heat, so his Sanji-as-a-heat-source tendencies led him to Sanji’s bed. Sanji’d nearly punted him to the floor that first night though, not expecting any company and not appreciating being woken up in the middle of the night. Then he’d felt Zoro shiver slightly against him and let out a long suffering sigh, pulled Zoro closer into the curve of his body and mumbled quiet threats into the sheets should any of the crew find out.

(When Sanji had woken up he’d taken pity and brought Zoro with him to the kitchen, tucking him into his old basket and setting him by the oven, the ambient heat enough to keep him comfortable despite the frigid air.)

But now they’re out of those icy waters and there really isn’t any excuse, except for how Zoro’s a spoiled and self-entitled prick who wants to steal all of Sanji’s body heat and rob him of a good night’s sleep. “Fucking marimo,” he groans, shifting in bed and displacing Zoro from his side. Zoro bites at his shoulder but Sanji ignores him, too tired and grumpy to really care.

After another week of this he hardly moves when Zoro hops into bed, just grumbles half-heartedly and shuffles around until they’re both in a comfortable position. Sanji still goes to bed before Zoro and wakes up earlier, but they adjust to each other’s rhythm. Zoro comes and goes as the temperature and his level of boredom dictates, stalking around deck after his shift at lookout until he decides to come implant himself under Sanji’s arm, generally being quiet and gentle enough to not roust Sanji too deeply out of sleep.

Sanji just learns to put up with it. He also reserves the right to pluck Zoro out of bed a scant hour after the man usually falls asleep. Sometimes, if Zoro looks unusually comfortable, Sanji will leave him tucked into the still-warm covers and start the day on his own, listening for the sound of paws on the kitchen floor before Zoro comes and drops himself unceremoniously into his basket with a yawn and not a single glance in Sanji’s direction. Other days, he’ll take Zoro with him, either settling him in his basket or just carrying him in his arms if he wants to spend some time looking out over the horizon.

They make it work and even when they’re finally discovered, Luffy falling out of bed in the middle of the night and staring blearily at the two of them, their captain just laughs and smiles and climbs back into bed without another word.

(When Nami catches Sanji holding Zoro by the railing one morning, she gives them more of a smirk, a knowing twinkle to her eye and an easy laugh when Sanji tries to stammer out an explanation. Robin just winks when she catches them napping on the couch one day.)

Part of him wants to be mortified, but a much larger part is just _happy._ He and Zoro still chase each other around and give Chopper headaches, but now they’ve found this as well. They’ve found a gentler warmth beneath all of that fiery temper and Sanji’s loathe to see it go.

But he fears it will. As soon as Zoro gets his body back, he’s bracing himself for it all to suddenly disappear.

\---------------

“Woohooooo, Usopp!” Luffy cheers, urging the sniper on. “I bet Sanji can make something really good!”

There’s a few birds flying overhead and Sanji’s had to cut back on the meat since they haven’t stopped at an island for a few weeks. They still have plenty of fish, so it’s not like the crew is suffering or anything, but Luffy likes as much meat as possible with as much variety as he can get. So everyone’s pretty used to him trying to bring down birds or anything else that catches his eye, and Usopp sometimes takes advantage of the chance to practice his marksmanship.

Sanji rolls his eyes and steps up into the rigging, readjusting his hold on Zoro’s swords as the swordsman himself clambers up the mast. Zoro’s gotten more intense with his training (and has managed to successfully do some damage to the bunk room with Wado) so he’s been relegated back to his actual training room. Which, since Zoro can’t actually carry all his swords himself at the moment, means Sanji’s been entrusted with the task of carefully carrying them up to the crow’s nest.

They’re moving at about the same pace, Sanji slightly slower than usual in consideration for the cargo he’s holding, but it means they’re both about three-fourths of the way to the ladder leading the rest of the way into the crow’s nest when he hears a loud squawk and a triumphant yell from Luffy.

“Meat, meat, meat!” Luffy cheers, dancing around the deck. “You got it, Usopp!”

Sanji’s already running a few recipes through his head when he hears Chopper yell and suddenly the bird, which is actually about five times larger than he’d expected, comes crashing to the deck. It knocks him loose from the rigging, unable to catch himself with the swords in hand, and he only has a moment to spit out a curse before he’s falling, bracing for what’s sure to be a jarring impact.

Except where he’s expecting rough wood and unforgiving decking, he finds corded muscle, breath knocked out of him by the strong arm wrapped around his middle. He hears feet hit the deck a few seconds before his own and then his head is spinning, heart thumping as a familiar voice rages just beside his ear.

“What were you idiots thinking? Were you trying to kill us?”

Zoro’s breathing heavily, teeth clenched in anger, but the rest of the crew is just staring at him with wide eyes. Sanji hasn’t even found it in himself to turn.

Finally, Luffy starts laughing and gets that big grin on his face, genuinely happy as he exclaims, “Zoro, you’re back!”

“Hah??”

Now Sanji does turn, if only to see the priceless expression on Zoro’s face as he slowly realizes that yes, he once again has opposable thumbs and the ability to speak. He’s also no longer covered in fur. Or clothes.

“You pervert!” Sanji yells. “Put some pants on, there are ladies present!”

Zoro just looks at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging open for a moment before grabbing his swords from Sanji’s arms and stomping down below deck, emerging a few minutes later fully clothed and with all three swords tucked neatly into place.

The first thing he does is march straight up to Usopp and Luffy and crack their heads together. “Think with your heads next time, not your stomachs!” he growls. They both whimper back and Zoro huffs, apparently satisfied that they’ve learned their lesson (although they all know they haven’t, they’ll be back at it again before the day is out).

And just like that the atmosphere changes, the crew exploding into happy shouts and laughter at seeing Zoro back to normal. Chopper immediately jumps into his arms and starts to cry, poking and prodding at any part of Zoro he can reach while asking over and over if the other man feels okay. Franky’s crying as well, big fat tears that he’ll deny and call any stupid for seeing. The girls are smiling happily, obviously relieved to have him back even if Nami immediately threatens to raise his debt for exposing himself. Brook has already burst into song.

It’s amazing to see the crew suddenly become so full of life, sharing in happiness for a member of the crew and reminding Sanji again just why he loves being a strawhat pirate. But, even among all the happiness and cheers, he can’t help the small twinge in his chest.

Because Zoro is back and they’ve all regained a valuable strength, a constant and reliable strength they can all lean on, but Sanji can’t shake the feeling that he’s lost something as well. That special bond that he and Zoro had come to share...he’s not sure if they’ll ever be able to get it back. If Zoro would even want to.

Unaware of Sanji’s conflicted thoughts, the joy on the deck continues, soon devolving into a wrestling match as Luffy springs onto Zoro and drags him to the ground, taking Chopper with them and pulling anyone he can reach into the pile. Zoro shouts and curses but Luffy just laughs, laughs and laughs until Zoro finally manages to extricate himself. And then he’s calling for a banquet, a proposal that’s greeted with a chorus of cheers.

It’s the perfect excuse for Sanji to escape to the kitchen and he uses it. The door shuts behind him and the thumping of his heart is suddenly unbearably loud in the quiet space. But he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop replaying the scene in his head, the way Zoro’s arm had felt wrapped around him…

And he can’t stop wondering _why._ Why had Zoro changed back in that moment and not any time else? Was it to save his swords? To save _Sanji_?

Sanji scoffs and chastises himself for considering the idea.

But when Zoro steps through the door for dinner later that day and immediately meets Sanji’s eyes, searching him out through all the chaos, Sanji allows himself a tiny bit of hope. And he recognizes that look and knows Zoro’s itching for a fight, an offer he takes him up on as soon as dinner’s done and they’re back up on deck, swords and feet flying as Chopper yells about recovery time and unknown side effects.

But Zoro’s smiling, he’s _happy_ and fighting and holding his swords again and Sanji will never, ever take that away. So they fight and they yell and they push each other’s buttons, and Sanji, somehow Sanji finds himself thinking-- _this just might be love_.

\----------------

Night falls over the Thousand Sunny and brings a gentle calm along with its blanket of stars. Everyone is content and relaxed, still quick to smile and eager to laugh with the happiness of the day’s events lingering in the back of all of their minds. Zoro’s been begrudgingly humoring them all evening, letting Chopper fuss over him and Luffy poke his face and doing some simple training on the deck so he wouldn’t be out of view. After putting the kitchen back in order Sanji had joined them on the deck as well, laughing along with the stories told and the jokes shared. They were a lively bunch that night and Sanji was glad for it. It helped keep his mind off his earlier revelation.

He’s not sure if he’s ready to face that reality quite yet, as true as he knows it is. He’ll give it time. If it’s something that precious, that important, then he can’t afford to rush into things and mess it up. With everything happening around him, Zoro probably wants some space and Sanji’s going to respect that.

Except, later that night long after the rest of the crew has gone to bed, Sanji is still awake. He finally admits defeat and drags himself to the kitchen, prepared to spend a few hours smoking and staring at the ceiling until his thoughts quiet enough for him to try and get some rest. It’s only a few minutes later that he hears someone come into the galley. The heavy footfalls are something he’s sorely missed and when he turns he has to suck in a breath because _yeah,_ he’s missed that face too, more than he’d ever thought he would.

“What do you want?” he asks, not bothering to sit up from his spot stretched out on the couch.

Zoro doesn’t say anything, just stands at the foot of the table with his arms crossed and an unreadable look on his face..

“Did you forget you can talk again or something, stupid marimo? What do you want?” Sanji asks again, unnerved enough without Zoro staring at him so intently.

Without a word, Zoro uncrosses his arms and moves across the room, grabbing a bottle of sake from the cupboard before pulling out a chair at the table. He sits on it like the neanderthal he is, legs spread and chest pressed to the backrest, and he only completes the picture by taking a pull of alcohol directly from the bottle.

“Don’t get used to stealing booze, shitty-marimo,” Sanji warns. “I’m only letting you do it now because you’re probably in withdraw. I swear, you’re like Luffy with meat.”

Zoro grunts and lets out a breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before letting the bottle hang from his fingers and fixing Sanji with a serious look. “You’ve been avoiding me,” is all he says.

Sanji bites down on his cigarette, finally sits up and blows a cloud of smoke to the side before he speaks. “Who says I’ve been avoiding you? In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been slaving in the kitchen ever since Luffy deemed your return to two legs worthy of celebration.”

Humming low in the back of his throat, Zoro takes another drink from the bottle then sets it on the ground, resting both arms on the top of the backrest and leaning more into Sanji’s space.

Sanji clicks his tongue. “Plus, are you forgetting when I kicked your ass earlier? You’re lucky Nami broke us up before I kicked you into a coma.”

Still Zoro says nothing, just keeps staring straight at Sanji with that infuriatingly calm expression, as if he’s got all the time in the world and he’s just waiting for Sanji to catch up.

“And we’re talking now!” Sanji finally says, gesturing between the two of them. “What more do you want?”

Finally Zoro blinks, cocks his head slightly to the side and watches Sanji closely as he asks, “So you wouldn’t mind if I stayed here?”

Now it’s Sanji’s turn to blink, not expecting the question. “Do you _want_ to stay here?”

Zoro takes in a breath, lets it out slowly. His brow is slightly furrowed. (If Sanji didn’t know better he’d say the man was disappointed.) “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because,” Sanji bites his tongue and stops himself from saying the first thing that comes to mind. He has to be careful, he knows that. “Because,” he starts again. “Things are different now, right?”

The boat creaks around them in the silence that follows, Sanji’s heart beating so loud in his chest he’s afraid Zoro can hear it too.

“You never came here before,” Sanji continues, voice softer. “I wasn’t sure if you’d still want to, now that you’re…” he gestures vaguely at Zoro himself.

He takes another drag of his cigarette and hates the way his hands are trembling ever so slightly. He hates the way his breath wavers as he breathes out the smoke. The silence stretches between them and Sanji’s chest feels unbearably tight.

“Idiot,” Zoro finally says, voice deep and slow in the half-light of the kitchen. There’s a fondness to it that has Sanji’s eyes snapping up, locking onto the slight curve of Zoro’s lips. “I want to stay.”

“Then stay,” Sanji says, asks, demands-- so many feelings wrapped up in just those words.

But Zoro’s still watching him, that tilt to his head and that furrow to his brow that says Sanji hasn’t yet answered all of his questions. (Sanji feels like he’s all out of answers.) And Zoro seems to realize that, arms dropping back to his sides as he leans down to pick up the bottle, bringing it to his lips and taking another drink, but it doesn’t feel like resignation or frustration. It’s feels like patience.

And it makes Sanji’s heart glow warm with hope.

\----------------

Zoro’s only been back to normal for a couple of days when they come upon an island. It’s small and seemingly uninhabited, just a dense jungle ringed with sandy beach. Always eager to explore, Luffy insists they stop and no one cares to disagree. It looks harmless enough and it’s a golden opportunity to let everything settle that much more into place. It’s been a giant weight off of all of their shoulders to have Zoro back, but it still almost seems like a dream. They haven’t seen the _real_ Zoro yet, the man full of bloodlust and ambition. And here they finally get to, at least in part, because there are lizards on the island-- giant, scaly, carnivorous lizards that try to eat them as soon as they land.

They spend the day running around, fighting, gathering food, and when Zoro climbs back onto the boat at the end of the day covered in blood that isn’t his own with at least a week’s worth of meat in tow they all let out a sigh of relief. That’s their Zoro. That’s the man they know. (That, and the bastard is the last one back, hopelessly direction challenged as usual.)

Fun as it was, the day had been long. So Sanji isn’t surprised when he steps out onto the deck after cleaning up dinner and sees half the crew sprawled out and refusing to move. Nami and Robin have retired to their room and Brook has gone up to the crow’s nest to take watch, Franky had stayed back to watch the ship so he’s still fairly awake, but the rest...

Sticking his cigarette between his teeth, Sanji takes a seat between Usopp and the marimo then leans back against the deck. The stars are as beautiful as ever and the sounds of the jungle are calming mixed beneath the crashing of the waves.

His cigarette burns down to nothing and Chopper stands with a quiet yawn, rousting Usopp and asking Franky to carry Luffy to bed. When his eyes fall on Zoro he looks to Sanji next, considering them for a moment before murmuring, “Don’t catch a cold, either of you. Doctor’s orders.”

Sanji huffs- as if they’d ever get sick- but nods anyway just to appease the little reindeer. The door to the men’s quarters clicks shut and Sanji turns back to the sky, lets his mind wander as darkness settles further around them, cool air coming in from the sea and washing over the ship. Zoro shifts beside him, turning from his back to his side and curling in on himself just slightly. He’s still shirtless from their time running around the island and Sanji’s eyes trace over the scar that splits his chest, considering.

After a minute, Zoro shifts again, a furrow to his brow and a twist to his mouth that Sanji doesn’t like. So he scoots those few inches closer, until his side just barely brushes Zoro’s outstretched arm and the effect is nearly instantaneous-- Zoro sighs and reaches out, hand fisting in the front of Sanji’s shirt and holding on, tugging him that much closer.

Sanji’s breath catches in his throat and his heart beats louder in his chest, shrinking the whole world to just this small moment as he wraps a careful arm over Zoro’s side and hauls him in, closes those last couple inches between them until Zoro’s comfortably pillowed on Sanji’s chest. From shoulder to thigh they’re completely pressed together and Sanji’s heart feels fit to burst.

Music from Brook’s violin drifts down and the moon is just a sliver in the sky, both encouraging Sanji to close his eyes and take a breath, to soak in the moment for all that it is. And it’s perfect.

In a moment of weakness he reaches up and cards his fingers gently through Zoro’s hair, rubs his thumb against the back of his neck to try and smooth out the tension there. But Zoro just pushes closer, a rumble deep in his chest that Sanji can feel against his side. Minutes tick by slowly and Sanji keeps rubbing Zoro’s neck, moving down to his shoulders before coming back up again. There are so many other things he wants to do, but he wants Zoro to be awake, wants to be told he’s allowed to touch and explore. He wants to ask questions and watch the emotions flicker across Zoro’s face.

So he keeps his hands in neutral territory and smirks at Zoro’s sleeping face, open and messy and perfect all the same.

In just the few days since Zoro’s been back in his body Sanji’s found himself falling harder. All the things that Zoro used to do Sanji’s seeing with new eyes. Because now, now he knows that Zoro has a softer side. He’s someone who will let Sanji close, someone who’s not only protected Sanji in the past but who’s made an effort to ensure their relationship in the future. There’s more trust and affection between them than Sanji ever imagined possible and he’s eager to explore the possibilities.

He still trains all day and drinks more than he should, steals booze from the kitchen and gets kicked for it, but underneath all the muscle and steel is something Sanji had never expected to find: a cuddler, someone as eager to receive affection as Sanji is to give it.

Zoro’s kept coming to the kitchen to nap and hang out, sitting at the dining room table sprawled out in a chair or half draped over the table itself (leaving Sanji wiping off sweat instead of cat hair, something he’s yelled at the idiot for more than a few times already). They talk and they argue and they insult each other, they bicker and sometimes need space, but in the end they always come back together. They’re getting to know each other as people, as friends, and maybe even something more.

His fingers brush past a particularly unruly tuft of hair and Zoro flexes around him, mumbling something about sake under his breath and leaving Sanji stifling laughter. Zoro’s face scrunches at the sudden rise and fall of Sanji’s chest and eventually his eye cracks open.

“Shhh, go back to sleep,” Sanji says, he feels a little bad for waking the other man up but not enough to completely get his grin under control.

Zoro grumbles and readjusts, pushes into the fabric of Sanji’s shirt, “Stupid dartbrow.”

“Shitty marimo,” Sanji murmurs back. His fingers thread back into Zoro’s hair and within seconds the other man is out, snoring quietly into Sanji’s chest. And this time, it doesn’t take Sanji long to follow after.

\-----------------

“I’ll slice you in half, shit-cook!”

“Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try, asshole!” Sanji’s face twists and anger flicks up his body like fire, exploding out as his leg meets the blunt edge of Zoro’s sword.

“Curly brow!”

“Shithead!”

“Perv-cook!”

“Bastard!”

The deck is filled with the sounds of their fighting, from the metallic ring of Zoro’s swords to the solid thud of Sanji’s shoes. They push each other back and forth across the wooden planking, panting and glaring and spitting insults whenever the moment strikes.

“What are those two fighting about now?” he hears Usopp ask, the other man drawn up onto the deck from the sounds of their fighting.

“Who knows?” Nami sighs, brushing them off easily and going back to her book.

Usopp shrugs and sits down on the ground beside her.

Finally, they both start to tire, previous energy dissolving into satisfaction. Zoro sheaths his swords and Sanji takes a step back, readjusting his tie and lighting a cigarette. When he looks up, Zoro is watching him and he lifts an eyebrow in response but the other man just turns away, disappearing up into the crow’s nest without another word.

Sanji goes into the kitchen and grabs himself a glass of water, drinking it slowly while considering the contents of the fridge. He hasn’t made parfaits in a while and no one’s broken anything yet today...he supposes a treat could be in order. Pulling out yogurt, fruits, and whip cream, he slips into the pantry to get some granola as well. They’re fairly simple to make and easy to customize, so it doesn’t take long before he reemerges on deck with a glass dish for each member of the crew suited specifically to their taste-- except Zoro. Zoro’s is still in the fridge for whenever he finishes training. Heat, dairy, and heavy weights don’t usually go well together and Sanji wants to make sure his food is enjoyed to its highest potential.

It takes an hour before Zoro finally descends and by then Sanji has retired to the aquarium bar to relax and have some time to himself before starting on the next meal. He expects Zoro to come get him and ask to be fed; what he doesn’t expect is for Zoro to come trundling in with the glass dish already in hand.

“Did you break into the fridge?” Sanji asks, not sure if he should be impressed or furious-- Not even Luffy has broken in yet.

But Zoro shakes his head, “Nami got it for me.”

“Ah of course, sweet Nami-san. I hope you thanked her.”

Zoro grunts and flops down on the sofa beside him, legs stretched out and spoon between his teeth as he gets settles. He looks at the parfait for a moment then takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully before holding it up to the light and scrutinizing its various layers.. to the point that Sanji knocks him on the back of the head.

“You’re supposed to eat it, not stare at it.”

Pointedly taking another bite, Zoro goes back to staring, putting his spoon in and mixing up the layers before seeming satisfied and setting the dish on his thigh. He eats it quietly while Sanji goes back to reading, not breaking the silence until he’s to the bottom of the dish and drops the spoon into place with a jangle of metal on glass.

It draws Sanji’s eyes and then he has to clap a hand over his nose, turning away from the sight of Zoro stretching, back arched and joints popping as he flexes his arms above his head. It’s a near thing, but he makes it, back under control before he feels a heavy weight on his thigh.

His lap has once again been staked as Zoro’s personal pillow. That night on the deck apparently opened the floodgates and now if Sanji’s sitting in the aquarium or the galley relaxing, reading, or working on recipes Zoro will come in and flop down next to him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Sanji hadn’t minded when Zoro was a cat and he doesn’t mind it now either, but the way they fit together has certainly changed along with Zoro’s size.

Below him, Zoro huffs and shifts, practically head-butting Sanji in the stomach before he settles again. Sanji flicks his ear, “Comfortable?”

Zoro hums and Sanji starts scratching at his scalp, running fingers through his hair until Zoro’s a boneless mess in his lap and he can get back to reading without interruption. Flicking through pages with one hand, he keeps the other threading through Zoro’s hair, occasionally stopping to rub circles at the base of his neck.

It takes about ten minutes before Zoro starts to purr, a soft rattle deep in his chest that shouldn’t be possible but somehow is. And that’s just one of the things that has lingered since Zoro’s change, little bits and pieces of his time as a cat that haven’t quite disappeared. He still purrs and nuzzles when he’s tired, stretches out and yawns with a kind of feline grace, and he bares his teeth more when he’s aggravated-- canines mysteriously sharper than they had been before. Chopper knows about the last few and has tasked Sanji with keeping an eye on things, but he isn’t too worried. So long as Zoro is Zoro and he’s happy, that’s what really matters.

But it still makes Sanji wonder.

He scratches a particularly sensitive spot just behind Zoro’s ear and the other man pushes into his hand, hums happily and presses his nose into the soft fabric over Sanji’s stomach. “Oi,” Sanji calls, drawing his attention. “I’m going to ask you something but you can’t attack me, got it?”

Zoro grunts noncommittally and growls when Sanji flicks his ear.

“You know you’re human, right?”

The question doesn’t seem to surprise Zoro, who just cracks open an eye and turns so he can look at Sanji’s face. “I know.”

Sanji pushes his hand back through Zoro’s hair, moving it away from his forehead before tightening his grip ever so slightly on the strands. He studies the other man’s face, looking for something he can’t even name, but he finds it nonetheless-- in the calm eye staring back at him and the openness of his expression. Breathing out a sigh he leans back against the cushions and weighs his options, considers asking the other question that’s been waiting at the tip of his tongue for weeks.

Deciding _to hell with it,_ he sets his book down and meets Zoro’s expectant face.

“What was it like?” he asks. “Did you- For awhile there you had Chopper worried, you shitty marimo, thought we might never get you back.”

Zoro closes his eye and is quiet for a moment, but there’s a tension in the air that says he’s thinking, waiting for the right words to respond.

“Feet,” is what he finally comes up with.

Sanji waits for him to continue, but quickly loses patience. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“All I could see were feet,” Zoro says. “I couldn’t drink sake. I felt like a child.” His brow furrows and he opens his eye to meet Sanji’s. “I wanted to look everyone in the eyes again.”

“You never seemed that bothered by it,” Sanji murmurs, trying to look back through his memories to any time he’d seen Zoro acting upset.

But Zoro stops his search by shrugging beneath him, “I wasn’t. That woman said it would end on its own. I thought I had to leave it up to fate.”

“You _thought_ you had to?” Sanji doesn’t miss that particular wording.

“In the end, I changed back when I had to, when I wanted it badly enough,” he sounds frustrated with himself and Sanji doesn’t like the new twist to his mouth. “I should’ve tried harder sooner, if I’d trained my mind more I would’ve realized that’s all I had to do.”

“Bullshit,” Sanji pulls at Zoro’s hair. “Being an idiot who leaves things to fate is part of your training. Besides, it was only a matter of time before Luffy tried to use one of your swords as a meat skewer. You would’ve changed back then just to throttle him yourself.”

Zoro hums and glances at the swords leaned against the wall. “Yeah,” he says, only it sounds a lot more like ‘maybe’, like he isn’t entirely convinced. Sanji’s tempted to press him on it, but decides against it, lets the conversation come to a quiet and unassuming end.

The sounds of the aquarium filters in the around them and Sanji takes a breath, feels Zoro do the same below him. Zoro’s open and trusting beneath him and Sanji’s book is long forgotten as he traces careful fingers over the lines of Zoro’s face, from the swoop of his eyebrows to the fullness of his lips. He saves the scar for last-- that vertical line up Zoro’s left eye that he’s never thought he’d be allowed to touch. Zoro watches him carefully as he runs the tip of his index finger down its length, searching Sanji’s face before shutting his eye. That simple sign of trust is enough to make Sanji’s heart jump in his chest.

He brushes his thumb over the curve of Zoro’s jaw next and wants to bury himself in the warmth he can feel all around them, the slow, steady thrum of affection he can feel radiating from Zoro’s core. It only takes a few more minutes for Zoro to completely relax against him, tension from their earlier conversation draining away beneath Sanji’s gentle fingers. Sanji feels like he’s been given a gift. One he plans to appreciate in every way it’s given.

Starting with how impossibly cute Zoro looks when he rolls back over onto his side, pressing his nose into Sanji’s shirt and humming when Sanji traces gentle fingers over the curve of his ear.

\----------------

Sanji’s going to die. He’s going to bleed out right here in the sheets with no one to bare witness to his suffering. In fact, it’s possible that he’s already dead and now trapped in some kind of hell.

It’s a hot and humid night, the air sticky with the promise of rain and a storm sweeping over the horizon. Thunder is already rumbling in the distance and he can hear the quiet creaking of the rigging caught in the wind. It’d actually be rather relaxing if it weren’t for the half-naked sadist draped across his chest.

Zoro’s bare chest is plastered all against his side, warm and sweaty and entirely unfair. His arm is wrapped around Sanji’s waist and his face is buried in the crook of his neck, one leg flung over both of Sanji’s. It’s the worst kind of torture Sanji can imagine because not only is he hotter than hell but he’s also pinned down by the subject of all his most recent fantasies.

“Oi,” he hisses, wriggling a bit to try to dislodge the other man. “Ooii.”

No response.

And okay, it’s not like Sanji is really against the current situation. They’ve slept in the same bed enough times at this point that Sanji’s used to having Zoro attached to his side like a limpet. But tonight, Sanji takes issue.

Because Zoro is turning the bed into a fucking sauna.

And Sanji may or may not be experiencing a very specific kind of personal dilemma. Involving the sudden tightness of his pants.

He’s been doing so well giving Zoro time and space, going slow before they even think about exploring that side of whatever’s growing between them. He hasn’t propositioned the other man once, hasn’t tried to get handsy or anything. It’s taken everything in his power but he’s done it.

And now without doing anything at all, Zoro is about to completely destroy all of his perfectly executed self-control.

“Oi,” he says a little louder, prodding Zoro in the side as well. “Get off, it’s too hot.”

Zoro grunts into his neck and tugs Sanji closer.

“Oi, no. I can’t sleep like this.” Sanji nudges him again but it’s like pushing at a boulder.

Finally, Zoro groans (a sound that does nothing to help Sanji’s current situation), voice wet and hot against Sanji’s skin as he mumbles, “You haven’t had a problem before.”

Sanji takes a deep breath and flushes at how unsteady it is. “I know,” he says. His voice is rougher than usual and it draws Zoro’s attention, draws a curious gold-grey eye up to his face.

Then, slow and smug like the fucking bastard he is, Zoro grins and shifts his weight further over Sanji’s chest, leg going between both of Sanji’s until his thigh is brushing against the very obvious problem in Sanji’s pants. “What’s wrong then, ero-cook?”

Sanji bites his lip and fights very hard to stay silent, cursing Zoro in his head with every word he knows and making up some new ones of his own.

Zoro laughs lowly and ducks his face back to Sanji’s neck, resettling all of his weight on Sanji’s chest. His lips brush over Sanji’s ear. “Because I want to stay,” he murmurs. “So unless you have a good reason…” He mouth drifts down to Sanji’s neck and sharp teeth find the skin there, pressing down hard enough for Sanji to feel it but not to leave a mark.

“Fuck,” Sanji hisses. His breathing is ragged and he’s thankful to how the storm has picked up outside, hopefully drowning out some of the sounds he’s making. Zoro laughs against his neck and licks the spot he’s bitten before settling down, moving to the side so only his head is pillowed on Sanji’s shoulder. Sanji breathes a sigh of relief and pushes a hand through Zoro’s hair in a quiet thank you.

And okay, that had been new. That had been _really_ new.

Sanji’s familiar with the swoop in his chest when Zoro does something special. It’s the feeling when they’d started spending time together. The feeling when they’d fought for that first time, short minutes after he’d changed back. It’s the feeling when they started cuddling again.

It’s the tightening and breathlessness of his lungs, the fire in his veins, that drunken heat that consumed him when Zoro crawled into bed with him the first time so many nights ago, slow and careful until Sanji had pulled him close.

But this, this is a fire low in his gut that singes through his veins and leaves him wanting more. This is something like hunger.

And he knows he still has to wait, that Zoro isn’t ready despite the teasing (knows he only teases because he trusts Sanji not to push). So he holds him, traces patterns into the warm skin of his back and presses kisses into his shoulder.

They’re hanging on the precipice, both of them ready to fall, but not quite sure if they’re ready to face what they’ve become head on. Because they’ve never spoken about it, never claimed it or named it or been overt. They come together without a word and they part ways just the same. They haven’t kissed or held hands.

It’s as instinctive and carnal as their fighting, softened by the affection budding between them, but they haven’t found the middle. They haven’t found a place to stay, to settle, to be themselves and have each other in the simplest of ways. But god they’re so close and Sanji can hardly breath some days when he wakes up to Zoro asleep at his side.

Curving his hand around Zoro’s bicep, he drags the other man closer and settles him back across his chest, holds him tight and hushes the quiet noise he makes. The ship rocks around them and thunder rumbles outside.

“It’s okay,” Sanji murmurs, “You can stay.”

_You can stay…_

_For as long as you want to. Please, please stay._

\----------------

“I swear, marimo, if your ass isn’t up in the next five seconds I’m going to kick it across the ship.”

He gets a long groan from the man sprawled across his bed. “Go away, curly. You’re too loud.”

“I have to be loud or you won’t get up, idiot,” he walks over to the bed and plants one foot on Zoro’s back. “Now move before I move you myself.”

Zoro grumbles and pushes up to his elbows, blinks down at the rumpled sheets before looking over his shoulder at Sanji. “Is it morning already?”

“Yes it’s morning, it’s nearly afternoon,” Sanji rolls his eyes and gives Zoro a nudge with his foot, making him rock on the bed. “You promised you’d come into town with me so for the last time, get going.”

Finally, Zoro sits up. The sheets are wrapped around his waist and his hair is an absolute wreck on one side, but he’s awake. Sanji can work with the rest.

He watches as Zoro pulls on his pants, yawning and scratching at his stomach as he walks across the room to grab the rest of his clothes. His boots and haramaki go on next, followed by his coat, sash, and bandana. Then he turns to Sanji, looking at him expectantly as he slips his swords into place.

Sanji looks him over a moment. “Passable,” he hums. “Too bad we can’t do anything about the face.”

Zoro glares at him in response and stalks past him out onto the deck, mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like _‘you fucking like my face’_ under his breath as he passes.

And yeah, okay, Sanji does kind of like his face so he lets it go. They have a quick snack then the crew breaks apart to head into town, eager to spend their allowance and explore the unfamiliar streets. Zoro steps up next to Sanji once they get to the edge of town and Sanji’s eyes flick over to look at him, tsking under his breath when he sees the mess Zoro’s still got going with his hair.

“I swear, marimo,” he mutters, reaching up to smooth down the worst of it.

Zoro glowers at the attention but doesn’t try to dodge it, just stands there with his arms crossed and a sour look on his face until Sanji steps back and declares him street worthy.

They sweep through the market like the seasoned veterans they are, Sanji with his discerning eye and Zoro with his blatant disregard for social convention. And as much as it makes Sanji cringe and shout whenever Zoro goes bulldozing through a crowd or blatantly ignores a vendor’s attempt at conversation, he does have to admit it makes the process go faster. Soon Zoro’s arms are filled with as much as he can carry and Sanji’s pulling a cart behind him, hearts in his eyes as he takes in the lovely ladies of the town.

Zoro scoffs when he swoons and nearly trips over a stray barrel, “Drop the sake and I’ll cut you in half, love-cook.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, marimo,” he quips, then nearly trips again when two beautiful women walk by. (It’s a warm island and they’re scantily dressed, sue him.)

“Oi, I’m serious,” Zoro says, “Do you need rehabilitation again, bloody-nose?”

“My nose isn’t even bleeding,” Sanji throws back. “Besides, the last time I got a bloody nose it was your fault.”

“Hah?” Zoro turns to stare at him. “My fault?”

“Yes, your fault. You stupid, shitty-swordsman,” Sanji can feel a flush blooming on his cheeks and ducks to take a drag of his cigarette to hide his face. “Don’t work out in the middle of the deck without a shirt on if you don’t like it.”

Zoro doesn’t say anything to that, just goes back to staring straight ahead with a contemplative look on his face. They’re halfway back to the boat when he finally says, “So does this mean you’re going to try and steal my underwear?”

“What?” Sanji yells, completely caught off guard. Because what the _hell_? “I never stole a lady’s underwear! And who would want to look at yours anyway? You never even wash it. Disgusting!”

“Who are you calling disgusting?” Zoro shouts back. “And I do wash it!”

They can’t properly fight with all of the supplies between them but they certainly do their best to try, yelling and kicking at each other’s feet until they make it back to the ship and get all of the supplies into the kitchen. Then, with a smug and entirely uncalled for look in his eyes, Zoro strips off his jacket and walks out on deck, starting in on his training regimen in full view of Sanji’s widening eyes.

He only gets one nosebleed over the course of the day, but Zoro sees it and Sanji watches as emotions flit through Zoro’s eyes, from surprise and realization to happiness and back again. And for the rest of the day there’s the hint of a smile on Zoro’s face as he works, a calmness about him that has something loosening in Sanji’s chest.

Dinner comes and goes and evening settles and Sanji finds himself staring at the ceiling, counting down the minutes until four o’clock rolls around and Zoro comes to bed. They don’t get much time together this way, since Sanji gets up at five, but sometimes Sanji can convince Zoro to join him in the kitchen or spare a few extra minutes himself to just stay and hold the other man close. But tonight...tonight he wants more than that. He wants to fall asleep with Zoro in his arms. He wants Zoro to _know_ that he wants to be with him like that. And after today, he thinks Zoro might just be ready.

The air on deck is crisp and cool, the atmosphere muted with the waning moon. Zoro’s sitting under one of Nami’s mikan trees looking over the swords in his lap and listening to the sound of Brook’s latest piece floating down from the crow’s nest.

Sanji takes in his silhouette and commits it to memory, wants to remember this moment for as long as he lives.

“Oi Zoro,” he calls, just loud enough for the other man to hear him as he walks across the deck.

Zoro looks up from his swords and Sanji leans down to lightly grip his chin, tilts his face up higher as he bends and presses a kiss to those warm, pink lips. “Come to bed with me?”

His answer comes in the form of a second kiss, and a third, Zoro’s lips bitten red by the time he finally lays down in Sanji’s arms.

Sanji presses a last kiss to the top of Zoro’s head. “Stay,” he whispers.

 

_Zoro stays._

\---------------


End file.
